


Cadence

by stellaretic



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Coercion, Established Relationship, M/M, not that it's the bad kind but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellaretic/pseuds/stellaretic
Summary: Vanitas strong arms Ventus into making a selfish decision. Selfishly.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	Cadence

**Author's Note:**

> wanted to do something short, snuggly and mindless in between outlining my bigger, roller coaster of emotions project, so here that something is! just for perspective’s sake, this takes place ~7 years after a divergent kh3 i should Prrrrrrobably take the time to write about someday. none of the specifics are super relevant for this piece though, so you’re safe not knowing them and i’m safe from having to elaborate before i’ve got it all set in stone! yippee!
> 
> anyway, thanks for looking! really hope you get half as many warm and fuzzies reading as i did writing!

When Ventus wakes, he finds himself in a haze, momentarily uncertain of where his limbs end and Vanitas’s begin. It’s comfortable. Blissful, even. If he could have his way, he’d shift to seek out more gratification in their tangle. Tuck his head back into the ever accommodating juncture of the other man’s neck and shoulder and flex fingers within tangles of a navy blue disaster he, at one point or another, designated as his favorite. Instead, he releases that fantasy into the ether, accedes to the sun’s glare and begins the delicate process of extracting himself from the lightest sleeper in the World.

Even being thoroughly accustomed to the angles, curves and dips that constitute his other half’s body doesn’t make worming out of his embrace any less of an endeavor. All it takes to rouse Vanitas is a shift of the comforter. The graze of skin where no contact had already been established.

Some defense mechanisms never die.

It’s the split second after Ventus finally eases the flats of his feet onto the floor and expels a sigh of satisfaction that a strong arm hooks around his waist, startling him into a near perfect stillness for three more. Cursing under his breath, he swivels back around to find Vanitas gazing up at him with the bleary, narrowed eye he isn’t presently rubbing.

“Tell me you’re just going to the bathroom.”

The slightest manifestation of a whine leaks through the fissures of its rasp. In a fit of endearment for the emotion it springs from, Ventus bends to placate every lingering trace of a frown on his chapped lips with slow, wispy kisses. Vanitas’s reciprocation is unabashedly greedy, from the way he cradles the back of the other’s blonde head to the reaffirmed grip around his midsection.

“‘Fraid not,” is what Ventus murmurs as he alone parts. The grin he points towards the clear, cerulean sky just outside their window lingers even as Vanitas stations hands on his shoulder and hip to attempt tugging him back down. “It’s way past sunrise.”

The darker haired man couldn’t be more displeased with that reasoning, as is illustrated by his grunt and knitted brows. 

“And? Daylight only matters because you idiots _make_ it matter.”

Before Ventus can get through the chuckle that would have prefaced his response—a tease, more accurately—it’s morphing into a yelp. With the crook of Vanitas’s elbow fixed around his neck, he has no choice but to submit as he’s wrestled back into the same hug they naturally assumed while asleep.

“ _Van_.” The tone Ventus takes contains notes of frustration, but it would be a stretch to say that he’s fighting. Rather, he’s halfheartedly _wiggling,_ kicking his feet into the air only for them to fall and languidly plop against the mattress. “C’mon. Don’t be like that.”

No response. If the muscles of Vanitas’s arm weren’t taut and his own sense of judgement wasn’t unusually sharp for the hour, he might be inclined to believe that he drifted off again.

“You know I have a lot to get through today. And I gotta water the plants, too! All of them!”

Save for the leisurely tide of respiration, there’s hardly a shift.

“Aqua and Riku are gonna be mad,” Ventus tries instead, volume dipping.

At that, a long, low and unaffected hum rumbles through Vanitas’s bare chest, commuting to the other man’s own.

Of course. There’s no way he would pass up on an opportunity to demonstrate just how little he cares what anyone else thinks, even if nonverbally.

“So… what? Me being your teddy bear is more important than the next generation of keyblade wielders?”

Vanitas cracks open a singular eye, crimson boring into leafy green. Underneath the scrutiny of his gaze, the guardian of light and darkness feels his half of their once shared heart romp.

“It’s what we want, so yes.”

 _We_.

Ventus blinks twice, then deflates, open mouth clamping shut.

There’s no point in playing dumb, nor initiating an argument. From the moment of his conception, Vanitas has always been able to feel exactly what he’s feeling—and that feeling he’s citing is the unflinching truth.

After so much time spent torn apart, plugging their ears and averting their eyes, who are either of them to deny something so simple as a desire to remain close for just a couple of hours longer? Deny themselves?

While gazes still meet, the expression Ventus wears melts into one that’s equal parts resigned and tender. His lover reallocates a hand and cups his chin, bringing their faces together. The action is met with an approving nuzzle, even if the tips of his nose and fingers carry a slight chill.

“You weren’t gonna let me go either way, huh?”

A puff of air too light to be called a snort passes through Vanitas’s nostrils, tailed by a possessive little squeeze.

“Look at you,” he mumbles, sarcastic, but indisputably affectionate. “Catching on. All by yourself, too.”

One feeble exchange of cheek and ear pinches later, they separate, draw the curtains and reunite to settle into a position that doesn’t involve a headlock.

As Ventus is lowering himself, he squirms enough to tickle Vanitas on purpose, golden spikes fanning against faint scars until knowing digits stop them with a short yank. Even if the assaulted winces, he can’t suppress his laughter. The smile he spies at an upward glance makes the modest ache in his scalp worth it, as does the way it’s soothed by slow starting, rhythmic strokes.

With nothing more to say that can’t be communicated idly through the cadence of their hearts, it’s the dimness of the room and distant chirps of birds that lull them to sleep once more.

**Author's Note:**

> bummed to report that not five minutes after they doze off again, ven’s self-recorded Absolutely Off The Hinges Ukulele Strumming gummiphone alarm goes off and the serenity is trashed. 0 day(s) since vanitas’s last shriek of anger.


End file.
